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A mind-melting masterpiece of bad taste and infantile humour, Jim Hosking’s riotous debut introduces us to hot-tempered septuagenarian Big Ronnie and his shlubbly but kind-hearted son Brayden, who together run a pathetic ‘disco tour’ around their dilapidated neighbourhood. Big Ronnie likes to tuck into the greasiest meals Brayden can cook up. Greasy breakfast grapefruit, anyone? Meanwhile, a slime-covered killer is roaming the city. Could Ronnie be the dreaded Greasy Strangler? Hint: yes he is! — MM

“A welcome oasis of filth, depravity and shock in a culture that too often thinks merely being a little weird passes muster. The shocks in The Greasy Strangler don’t just come from the avalanche of profanity, flatulence, fetishized cellulite, nauseating food, cartoon violence and close-ups of phalluses (elephantine and microscopic both). The shocks come from the winding plotting, which follows a dream logic that could only float through a diseased stream of consciousness… It carries a playfulness that should inspire glorious, ‘what the fuck?’ huzzahs from the sort of people who wish John Waters would make movies like Desperate Living and Pink Flamingoes again.” — Jordan Hoffman, The Guardian